


A Total Disaster of a Fake Date

by Felle



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Real World, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 11:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felle/pseuds/Felle
Summary: On pain of never hearing the end of it from his boss, Yukimura is in need of a date, real or otherwise, for an upcoming event. Reina may know someone who’s willing to play along, and he agrees to the setup. It’s just for one night, Yukimura tells himself. And it’s impossible to make a total disaster out of a fake date, isn’t it?He can only hope that everyone is reading from the same script.





	A Total Disaster of a Fake Date

“I really doubt the director would fire you over this. Legally I don’t even think he can, right?”

Yukimura slumped further back in his seat and shook his head. His lunch sat on the table in his office, untouched, with Reina eyeing it even before finishing her own sandwich, while he instead rotated the ring on his finger. “No. But he _can_ give me no end of grief about it. You know how…exacting he can be at the best of times. An event like this makes him even worse.”

“He’s never been all that exacting with me.”

The fact that Reina stood half a head over almost everyone else at the museum and carried a heavy baton all the time might have had something to do with that. She leaned forward to finish her sandwich in one quick bite while Yukimura rolled his eyes. “We can’t all enjoy such confidence, unfortunately. Maybe if I start pretending to be getting sick today, it’ll sound believable when I call out on Friday. But I already saw the director today, didn’t I…food poisoning? There’s a new sushi place that just opened downtown, I can mention going to check it out tonight and then say that I’m feeling queasy tomorrow. Oh, but what if he wants to come with me? Does the director like sushi? Wait, tell me what he _doesn’t_ like, and I’ll say something about going there. He’ll believe something about food poisoning easier that way.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Reina asked, sliding a thumb under one of her suspenders. “You’re really concocting an elaborate ruse to get out of having to find a date? You’d think you were going to prison instead of an exhibition opening, what’s the matter with you?”

Her glower held for a moment, then melted when she looked down at his lunch. “Are you going to eat that?”

Yukimura pushed his bento across the table and sank further into his seat. He doubted he would be able to keep anything down anyway, with his nerves in a tizzy the way they were. No, he wouldn’t get fired for showing up stag as he always did, but he _would_ get drawn into being a docent again, and the director wouldn’t let him forget about messing up his bizarre ideas of symmetry and gala etiquette for some time. Faking illness was honestly the best proposition to get him out of it altogether. “Easy for you to say all of that, you’ve got a date for this already. How is Orochi, by the way?”

Reina checked her watch. “It’s two now, so the bed is probably covered in different gowns so she can settle on what to wear. And eventually she’ll decide that nothing will suffice and want to go shopping for a new one, so she’ll call and try to sweet talk the money for it out of me. Which I will…inevitably agree to, so it’s good that I picked up some overtime tonight,” she said with a sigh that straddled the line between resigned and contented. “Right, that’s not what you asked. She’s doing well, shopping her books around to agents. Her usual gown process just threw me off.”

“I suppose it’s good that you have the routine down to such a science.”

Yukimura felt her nudge at his knee with her foot. “Quit moping, will you? You’re not trying to pick astronauts to go up in a space shuttle, it’s a gala date. You’ve got a plum job, you’re pretty decent-looking—at least as far as I can judge—and you don’t act like a boor, I’m sure you could get a few bites on a dating site between now and Friday. How about I help you set up a profile? Or…hmm.”

“What? Are you going to suggest an ad in the paper?”

“No, you’d never be able to publish it in time to get a response by Friday. But that’s not a bad idea, we might be able to use that for next time if all else fails. If you’re not opposed to faking it for one night, I might know a woman who’d be up for a black-tie party like this.”

“All the women you two know are lesbians,” Yukimura said dryly.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re just faking it, right? And it’s not _every_ woman we know, I think this one is straight. Orochi knows her, I’m pretty sure museum stuff is right up her alley. Should I check and see if she’s up for it? You get the boss off your back, she gets to go to this shindig, everyone goes home happy at the end of the night. No muss, no fuss.”

Yukimura looked down at his ring and slid his thumb over the gold surface. A fake date? The idea seemed terribly…juvenile, and he was a long ways from being a teenager. Still, she was offering a solution that didn’t throw him to the wolves or require him to ask random women if they would accompany him to a party they may have had no interest in. Reina bumped his knee again. “It’s been a long time, Yukimura. There’s nothing wrong with getting back out there.”

He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. It didn’t seem like he was getting out of this one, he might as well rip off the bandage quickly. “All right, you can give her my number or however you set these things up. One awkward night is better than the director haranguing me about it until the next party. Thank you.”

“Great! Break’s almost up, I should go and make sure none of my underlings managed to start any fires.” Reina’s phone chirped, and she nodded sagely when she took it out and looked at the screen. “And the gown process is underway…I’ll see you later. And don’t fake food poisoning to try and get out of this!”

She was already on the phone with her wife when she slipped out of his office, preparing to acquiesce to a shopping trip. Yukimura waved her off until the door fell shut behind her, then looked down at the remains of her lunch she’d left behind. Half of his meal was still there, he noticed as he balled up her sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the wastebasket. It didn’t matter much, with his nerves still singing. Yukimura boxed the food back up, sank into the chair behind his desk, and stared up at the ceiling.

“What have I gotten myself into?”

There was always _actual_ food poisoning, he supposed. Reina couldn’t exactly fault him for not showing up if he really was sick. Maybe he would leave some groceries out for a little too long, or find a dodgy food cart somewhere downtown—Yukimura growled in frustration. He could hear how ridiculous it sounded in his head now. One night with a fake date wasn’t going to kill him. Reina, on the other hand, might actually kill him if he contrived any more excuses. He turned his computer back on to answer whatever correspondence had come through and retrieve the new inventory lists for the afternoon.

It was almost time to leave for the day when his work phone started ringing. Yukimura was tempted to pretend he had already gone home and leave whatever it was for tomorrow, but there was always a chance that it was the director having a conniption. Or something might have broken. That would mean a very late night, he thought glumly as he picked up the phone. “Archives, this is Yukimura.”

“Oh good, you’re still here,” Reina said. He sighed in relief. Reina never called him for anything that would detain him. Yukimura cradled the handset between his cheek and shoulder while he stood to start gathering up his things. “Orochi said she passed on your number and that Corrin was up for it, so it looks like you’ve got your fake date. You can work out the details with her.”

His stomach flipped, and he wondered how long it would be before he could feel confident about eating again. Not until after the gala, probably. “Thank you for arranging this,” Yukimura said, his voice tight.

“Don’t sound _too_ excited. Just…be your usual self, all right? Or at least don’t make me catch hell for helping set this up. Are you leaving soon? I’ll walk with you to the station.”

“Give me five minutes, I’ll meet you out back.”

Yukimura was putting his coat on when his cell phone buzzed with its generic chirp. He cocked his head. All of his contacts had their own unique ringtone, and it was exceedingly rare to get any unfamiliar messages out of the blue—“Oh.”

_Unrecognized Contact [17:26]: Hi, this is Corrin, is this Yukimura? Orochi gave me your number, she said there was a museum function in need of a fake date?_

He chuckled under his breath. It certainly sounded silly when it was laid out that way. At least they were both on the same page with this, there was _that_ potential trouble avoided. Yukimura added the number to his contact list and set his briefcase down to tap out a reply.

_Yukimura [17:27]: Yes it is, hi, it’s good to talk with you. And yes, I needed a plus one to an exhibition opening this Friday evening. Orochi’s wife suggested this solution, so here we are. I’m on my way out of the office now, can I send along the details once I get home?_

Maybe this wouldn’t be a total disaster after all. Well, that remained to be seen. He pitched his phone from side to side while he waited for a reply, wondering what the best route out of the building would be to avoid the director. There was another chirp after a few minutes, though it wasn’t the generic tone.

_Reina [17:33]: It’s freezing, where are you?? If you don’t get your butt out here before icicles start forming on my eyelashes I’ll shove that briefcase so far up your [1/2]_

Her colorful threats in mind, Yukimura hurriedly buttoned his coat, shut the lights, and hoped that he wouldn’t run into anyone with a thought to make demands upon his time as he took the quickest route to the staff exit at the rear of the museum. Even with his rushing, though, the part of Reina’s face not covered by her scarf looked seriously unamused. She spared no time for pleasantries and fell in beside him to cut through the city block and get to the station on the next street over. “I’m standing out here like an idiot waiting for you, I could’ve missed my train,” Reina said, her voice muffled by the multiple layers of scarf pressed over her mouth. “Did the boss hold you up or something?”

“Just…had to get a few things together.”

His phone buzzed against his hand in his pocket, and despite a history of poor luck with walking and reading at once, Yukimura slipped it free to look at the incoming message.

_Corrin (Gala) [17:38]: Sounds great! I’ll talk to you later._

Another sliver of worry about total disasters sheared away. Reina glanced over as they rounded the corner onto the sidewalk. “Who’s that, your date?”

“Fake date,” Yukimura insisted, then nodded. “She seems nice enough.”

“Mmhmm. Looks like you found the only other person in the world who texts in complete sentences. Oh, damn it, my train’s about to pull in, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Reina ran ahead, forcing people to jump out of her way by sheer dint of her height. Yukimura followed slowly, blending into the rest of the evening commute crowd. He was able to take a more leisurely pace down to his platform, rereading their brief message chain until his train arrived. Well. How many total disasters were there, really?

⁂

Yukimura was starting to think he should have gone with the food poisoning.

At the very least, it hadn’t been wise to take a half-day to go home and prepare for the gala. Picking up his tuxedo from the dry cleaner and getting himself ready had taken less than two hours, leaving the rest of the time to pace and worry. He finally had to sink onto his couch and take very conscious control of his breathing to calm himself.

Not a date, he kept repeating in his head. This had the potential to be a fun ruse if he could only get a hold of himself. Yukimura ran his thumb and first finger over his ring to try and soothe his thoughts, only to have them turn down a more somber road. Showing up with someone he was supposed to be dating _and_ a wedding band could make for some very awkward questions. There was a lighter strip of skin at the base of his third finger when he slipped it off and turned it over in his hands. One night without it wouldn’t kill him, Yukimura decided as he placed it on the end table. His phone trilled with the new tone he had put on it the other day.

_Corrin (Gala) [18:15]: Hi! I just got here, I’m downstairs. Should I ask the doorman to hail a cab?_

He took a long breath and got to his feet. One night, that was all. Maybe he could even enjoy himself.

_Yukimura [18:16]: That’s all right, the museum should be sending over a car. I’ll be right down._

It was a task not to bounce on his heels in the elevator and make a crease in his nice shoes. As it was, he also had to resist picking at his bowtie and leaving it askew for everyone to notice. Some annoyingly detached part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Handling priceless artifacts was simple, everyday routine that inspired no more anxiety than picking out purchases at the grocer, while the thought of this gala looming in his mind had him looking for the escape hatch. Any therapist would have a field day with that. He settled for tapping out a rapid beat with one foot until he reached the lobby. The usual evening rush of residents hadn’t yet arrived, leaving the lobby nearly empty. There was the night doorman writing out package slips for the mail slots, and—

Yukimura could actually feel every thought in his head come to a sudden, screeching halt when he saw the woman waiting near the door. All of his vague imaginings over the past week of what his fake date might look like paled against the real thing. She was tall, maybe half a head shorter than him, with smooth, fair skin and a long flow of platinum blonde hair that fell in loose waves to the small of her back. Her black dress and the matching shawl draped over her arms were impossibly elegant in their simplicity, and Yukimura couldn’t help feeling underdressed in comparison despite fixing his tuxedo as best he could. He took a few cautious steps from the elevator and cleared his throat loudly enough for her to hear so he wasn’t just sidling up to her. She turned at the sound, giving him an arresting view of her eyes, such a bright hazel that they looked almost red, and smiled. It struck him then that she looked awfully young, far more than he would have expected. His was anticipating someone in her thirties at the youngest, but she seemed even younger than that. Where had Orochi dug this girl up from? “Yukimura?”

He had only a second or two to relearn how to speak, entirely in his head. “Ah, yes, hello. Corrin, I presume?”

“Yep!” She crossed the distance between them with a few quick steps, each _click_ of her heels echoing in his head, and offered her hand. Yukimura took it, marveling at how soft her skin was. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” he said, trying to mirror her smile. “You, um…you look very nice.”

Over her shoulder, Yukimura could see the doorman give him a thumbs up. Somehow it seemed like his fake date was going to inspire more questions than simply going alone as usual, mostly of the _what the hell, you lucky bastard_ variety. “Thank you! Same to you.”

“I hope you weren’t waiting long? Or had to walk here without a coat?”

“No, a friend dropped me off a few minutes ago. I saw a car pull up right before you came down, is that our ride?” Corrin asked.

Yukimura glanced out the door, where the usual kind of sedan that the museum sent for its important guests was idling. “That would be it. Shall we?”

“Let’s,” she said, wrapping her arm around his and making him start a little. Getting into character early, he supposed. Yukimura led her out of the building and into the cold evening, cutting across the sidewalk to open the car door for her. Corrin clasped his hand as she climbed in. “Thank you.”

He wondered vaguely if it was too late to get out of this. Showing up with a woman young enough to be his daughter was going to cast a focus on him that he most certainly did not want. No, the course was already set, he thought as he climbed in after her. Short of a crash en route, there was no changing things, and it wasn’t as if he wanted her to be hurt. Once they were settled and the car pulled away from the curb, Corrin shifted over so she was up against his side, linking their arms again. And what did _she_ think of all this? He wouldn’t have put it past Orochi to artfully omit his age when pitching this idea to her. She seemed to be bearing it with good grace, at least.

“The picture of you that I got really didn’t do you justice,” Corrin said, idly playing with one of his cufflinks. Ah, here it was. All he could really do was apologize on Orochi’s behalf for not mentioning how old he was and hope that they could keep up the rest of the ruse without issue—

“You’re much more handsome in person.”

How glad he was that he hadn’t eaten anything that afternoon, because his stomach surely wouldn’t have tolerated it after that comment. He was grateful, too, that what light filtered through the windows from the buildings they passed wasn’t enough to show how red his face had to be. Yukimura rubbed the back of his neck to try and salve some of the burn there. “Well, thank you,” he said softly, before something clicked in his mind. “I hope it wasn’t the picture where Reina has me in a headlock.”

“Well…I could say no, but that would be the first lie of our fake relationship. Don’t worry though, I won’t put you in a headlock.”

“I appreciate it.”

Corrin snickered, and some of the unease in his chest dissipated. Maybe this could still be salvaged. She seemed polite enough that she wouldn’t have brought it up at all if she was disquieted, would she? “So, this is to get your boss to stop needling you about showing up solo, right? We should work on our cover story,” Corrin said. Right. The director wouldn’t simply accept him showing up with someone, he would surely ask all sorts of questions. “I was thinking for how we met…maybe a cooking class? The instructor paired us up and we hit it off?”

“That sounds fine to me. What was it we were supposed to be cooking?” Yukimura asked.

“Hmm.” Corrin took her hand away from his cufflink to tap at her chin, and Yukimura found himself acutely aware of its absence. _Fake date_ , he reminded himself. “It needs something funny to make people laugh and not pry too much—what if we never actually got around to making the dish because we were too busy talking?”

She was concocting quite the meet cute for them. Corrin laid her hand over his, and with the light from the street he could tell that she was looking up at him. “I think it should work. It’s fairly noncommittal and shouldn’t make anyone skeptical. And how long have we,” Yukimura started to say, but the rest of the sentence didn’t form in his head. “How long has this been going on?”

“I guess that depends on the last time you showed up somewhere without a date.” Corrin touched each of her fingers to his. Commendable though her method acting was, it was starting to make the artifice of it all rather easy to forget.

“A few months, then.”

Corrin made an acknowledging sound and leaned into his side a bit more. Yukimura sucked a breath between his teeth and looked down at her, trying to keep his gaze from dipping to the front of her dress. “Are you cold?” he asked. “My jacket isn’t very thick, but it’d be something until we get inside.”

She didn’t budge. “I’m perfectly fine. I’m sure it’ll come up at some point, but what exactly is your job? Orochi only said that you worked at the museum with Reina.”

Either Orochi thought describing his work would sound more impressive coming from him, or she had forgotten. It was an even chance either way, really. “I’m the head archivist, I maintain the catalog of everything we have in the building at any one time and verify the provenance of the artifacts when they come in,” Yukimura said.

“So you get to handle the exhibits?”

Her interest sounded more earnest than anything, and he sat up a little straighter. It wasn’t every day that the archive department got much attention, and then it was usually only when there was a problem. “I have a staff to take care of most of the volume, but if it’s very valuable or fragile I’ll usually do it myself.” Yukimura caught the note of preening in his own voice and tried to rein it in. “Well. It’s not flashy, but it’s necessary. How about you?”

“I’m a grad student, I just finished the first semester for my master’s in classical studies.”

In the light of a streetlamp they passed, Yukimura could faintly see his soul leaving his body. Reina had set him up with a college student. If he wasn’t so sure she was very capable of popping his head off his body, he would’ve wanted to kill her. “Then I think you’ll enjoy the exhibition tonight: the rise of form within function of various ancient artifacts across a variety of civilizations.”

Corrin jostled him excitedly. “Sounds right up my alley.”

He felt rather like an ancient artifact himself. Yukimura drummed the fingers of his free hand on his knee. This was going to eat at him, he knew that much. “I wasn’t going to say anything since it didn’t seem to bother you and this is all fake anyway, but…I’m sorry if Orochi neglected to mention that I’m quite a bit older than you.”

“She told me.” Corrin crossed her legs, and one heel bumped against the side of his calf. “She led with that, actually. It’s really not a stumbling block for me. And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Right.” Yukimura relaxed a little. Most of his unease came unknotted at knowing the exhibit was something she was interested in, so at least it wouldn’t be a slog for her. The rest of her flatteries didn’t hurt, either. “Right. Ah, here we are.”

The car slowed and pulled to the curb at the museum’s front entrance, the one he rarely used when the back door was so much closer to the station and his office. Yukimura stepped out first and held the door while Corrin followed, then tried to ignore the looks from his coworkers milling around outside to smoke when she hung off his arm again. Most of their expressions were shock, with not-insignificant minorities of envy, approval, and judgment. He paused at the museum doors, hand resting on the pull bar. “Ready?”

“Let’s put on the best date they’ve ever seen,” Corrin said brightly.

All his worries aside, Yukimura couldn’t help smiling as they stepped into the atrium.

When he had something to do at work that took him into the parts of the museum that the public saw, he would occasionally poke his head into the south wing, where the new exhibition was being set up. All of his views before some well-meaning docent who didn’t recognize him tried to shoo him away were of a darkened space, kept behind heavy black sheets with the lights down as low as they could be set. To make it look like renovations, the director would say. Him and his theatrics.

Walking in now, though, not having any expectations formed by an early look, was well worth the curiosity over the last month and a half. The hall was laid out like a scene from a movie, with freshly resurfaced floors and spotless white walls to set everyone’s focus squarely on the pieces set in neat rows throughout the space, each in its own little glass enclosure. Farther back were the larger artifacts that wouldn’t fit in the display cases, roped off from wandering hands and attended by the security staff who were pulling overtime. “Wow,” Corrin murmured.

“My thoughts exactly…the front of house crew really outdid themselves this time.” Yukimura took a pair of champagne flutes from a passing waiter’s tray and offered one to Corrin. She shuffled her clutch to the hand wrapped around his arm to take it, then _clinked_ it against his in a toast. “Where would you like to start?”

The first row started with the loaned collection of Harappan goods, pottery and seals and metalwork that progressed in artfulness as they moved further down the row, from simple pieces dedicated entirely to their function to the inclusion of decoration and a care for aesthetics. Every artifact had been photographed and cataloged for the records in his office, but it had arrived piecemeal and out of order. Seeing it all presented in the intended order, growing in complexity and beauty as time went on, far exceeded the pictures. The remainder of the row started over with the Babylonian artifacts, starting from the most basic hand tools and advancing to elaborate symbols of station and rank. Corrin leaned over a display case housing an intricately detailed cylinder seal bearing illustrations no larger than her fingers, rooted to the spot where she typically matched the leisurely pace he set. Yukimura looked at it over her shoulder. “That’s one that I processed myself,” he said. “I didn’t want to risk anyone accidentally wearing down the carvings.”

“I read about things like this all the time, but…it’s different seeing it, you know?”

“Mmhmm.”

“The illustration showing it being used is nice, did that come with it?”

She motioned to the rough sketching on the display beside the information on the piece. “No, I actually did that,” Yukimura said, and pointed to the small kanji tucked into the corner beneath the subject’s desk. “There’s my signature. My boss commissioned them for some of the pieces here.”

Corrin looked up at him, head cocked, and suddenly Yukimura felt very important. For all the artifice of their evening, nothing about her expression right then seemed contrived. “So you’re an artist, too…that’s pretty impressive,” she said, winding her arm tighter around his. “I took a few art classes last year, but everything just looked like cubes.”

Ah, of course. It wasn’t all that difficult to impress someone who was still in school. His sense of importance deflated back to its usual baseline as they turned to look over the next row and came face to face with the museum’s head of security and her wife. “Hi, Orochi!” Corrin said, shaking her half-empty champagne flute slightly in lieu of waving.

As per predictions, Orochi had elected for a gown Yukimura had never seen before, solid violet a few shades darker than her hair that extended almost to the floor. Reina, by contrast, had gone with a tuxedo of her own, cut precisely for her measurements and carrying it off a fair bit better than most of the men in the exhibition hall. Yukimura’s annoyance with the two of them flared ineffectually back to life, unable to find an outlet with Corrin still on his arm. Orochi shot them both a wink. “Hey, how’s the, uh, _date_ going?”

“Lovely,” Corrin said, leaning into his side for a moment before straightening up. “Where’s the restroom?”

Yukimura took her champagne flute when she handed it to him. “It’s in an alcove if you leave the hall and head right, before the main stairs.”

“I’ll go with you, these drinks work awfully quick,” Orochi said, and went alongside her to the exhibition exit. Yukimura watched them until they slipped out of sight, noting the way Corrin’s hair swayed with each step, then wheeled around to face his colleague.

“ _Reina_.”

“Yukimura,” she said in turn. “Hey, don’t go all wide-eyed on me, what’s the matter? Do you need to go sit down somewhere?”

“Reina, she’s a grad student!” he said in barely more than a hiss, leaving the flutes with a waiter drifting by. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, something like that.”

“You told me she was Orochi’s friend, I didn’t think I’d have someone almost half my age showing up at my building for this!”

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and squared her shoulders, gaining enough height to loom over him properly. His spirit of indignation, renewed at running into them, crumbled in on itself. “First of all,” Reina said, adopting the voice she used when she was about to kick someone out on the street, “The list of women jumping at the chance to go on a fake date to a museum exhibition opening wasn’t exactly a mile long. Second of all, I never said she was Orochi’s friend. I said Orochi _knew_ her. Corrin’s the daughter of one of her friends from back in the day.”

“Back in the day? Back in the day this girl was back in the womb!”

“See, this is why you should come to open-mic night with us once in a while, you’re funnier than you think. And third of all…you two look like you’re having a pretty good time. I mean, she was practically hanging off of you. It’s hard to misinterpret that.”

“Because we’re playing parts here,” Yukimura said, pushing his glasses up so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “She’s not actually interested in me, this is the kind of thing she’s doing her thesis on and I was the ticket in.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Reina took a step closer to him and poked him in the chest, hard enough to make him lean back a bit. “One of these days you’re going to have to accept that you have some qualities that make you the kind of person that other people might like to be around. Do you think I come by your office for lunch every day just so I can steal some of your food? Or that I keep inviting you out only from some sense of obligation?” she asked, then clapped her hand on his shoulder with a sigh. “We’re in black-tie, so I’m not going to shake any sense into you right now, but sooner or later you’re going to realize that people will like you if you let them in, and I hope it’s sooner. For tonight…try to enjoy yourself without looking for a way to self-sabotage, please. For Corrin’s sake, if nothing else. All right?”

She removed her hand, balled it into a fist to give his shoulder a light nudge, then drew it back. The remains of his annoyance with her blew away like so much dust. “All right,” Yukimura said, and brushed some loose hair behind his ear. “Thank you, Reina. There’s no reason I can’t make sure Corrin has a nice night, apart from the inevitable interrogation. Speaking of which…where’s the director? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“You didn’t hear? That’s right, you left around noon. He’s home sick. Food poisoning.”

Yukimura stared at her for a long moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Reina didn’t start laughing to let him know she was putting him on. He could have laughed. A week of making himself sick with worry, and now it was for nothing. “The universe’s sense of irony is a bit heavy-handed, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Look at it this way, there’s no pressure on you for the rest of the night. The assistant directors couldn’t care less if you came alone or not.” Reina looked pointedly over his shoulder, and Yukimura turned to see their dates returning. Seeing Corrin out of the blue for a second time was no less impactful than the first, and he couldn’t help mirroring her smile when she fastened herself to his side again. “You two have a good night. And open that pressure valve a bit, Yukimura. You’re off the hook.”

Reina led Orochi back down the first row of artifacts, cutting between two display cases to get to the table of hors d’oeuvres set up in the middle of the hall. Corrin tugged lightly at Yukimura’s sleeve. “What did she mean by that?”

“Oh…she was just telling me that our boss actually left for the night before we arrived. Which undercuts the need for the whole fake date business in the first place.”

“How do you like that,” Corrin said, and linked her arm around his again. “So what should we look at next?”

Despite no longer having to play the part, Corrin held onto him as they took in the rest of the exhibit, listening attentively when Yukimura mentioned the similarities in aesthetic development across cultures and chiming in with thoughts of her own from her classes. For all the nerves still drawn tight, he found it very easy to talk to her, and even make a joke or two when the moment seemed right. They circulated amongst the rest of the department heads, greeting some of the bigger donors and making them feel important. He still got the occasional askance look from people when they saw his date, but somehow it seemed much less important now. The assistant directors who were left picking up the slack in the wake of their boss’s absence handled the brunt of the diplomatic work, allowing Yukimura to slip away with Corrin to look at the rest of the pieces out on the floor.

When they came to the end of the last row with the displays from different Celtic cultures, Yukimura looked around to see if the staff had put up signs directing people to the auxiliary hall. There didn’t seem to be any, though. “I thought more had come in than this,” he said.

“There’s _more_?” Corrin asked, eyes wide. “There has to be almost ten thousand years of history in this room.”

“Well, yes, this is most of it, but I remember processing a few pieces that I haven’t seen out here. And I sketched for some of those, too…it might be a space issue. And this way they can rotate a few things out of storage to keep people interested.”

“So there’s another row of displays somewhere? Could we go take a look?”

“You want to go to the storage area?” Yukimura asked. “There’s no presentation like this down there, it’s basically a warehouse. It’s probably empty at this time of night too, the staff down there would’ve gone home already.”

Corrin’s smile didn’t waver. “I’d love to see it if you’re willing to guide me.”

All the security staff were busy in the exhibition hall, and there was no one attending the entrance to the back offices to question Yukimura when slid the cover off the fingerprint scanner and opened the door. “Very secret agent,” Corrin said as he led her inside. The service corridors were plain and without adornment, with the soft beige walls punctuated only by the occasional bulletin board on one side and office doors on the other. “Function over form, right?”

“Maybe we should have opened up this part of the building if it keeps with the theme.”

It was a quick walk to the back of the building, to the loading dock and service elevators that led down to the storage area beneath the museum proper. Yukimura hoped no one would check the entry and exit logs as he put in his code to open one of the elevators for them, but even if they did, he found himself wondering if he would really regret doing this for her.

As he suspected, a good deal of the ancient weapons they had received with the rest of the artifact loans were tucked away with the most recent arrivals, already in display cases and ready to be slotted into place among the other offerings. “I suppose the gallerists thought these would be too morbid on opening night,” Yukimura said as they passed a few examples of spears and arrowheads. Corrin looked down at his illustration of an archer fletching arrows. “We do have the sensibilities of our donors to think about.”

“It’s a shame that your work is being hidden down here.”

“Everything’s ready to go upstairs soon, and the exhibition’s going on for six months. I’m sure it’ll join the rest eventually.”

Corrin nodded and rested the side of her head on his shoulder. Quite the touchy-feely girl, all told. Not that he minded. “It’s so interesting to see all of this collected in one place and arranged this way,” Corrin said, then shivered. Little wonder she was cold, there was no reason to have the climate control on down here. Yukimura slipped his jacket off and laid it across Corrin’s shoulders. “Oh, thank you. And for everything else, too. I think this has to be the best date I’ve ever been on.”

_Fake date_ , insisted a vanishingly small voice in his head. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Yukimura said. “I wish I could show you some of the other exhibits, but everything else is closed off until the morning. Is there anything you’d like to take another look at?”

“Hmm, I think I’ve had my fill for the night.”

Of course. It had to end sometime, didn’t it? The smile still beaming on Corrin’s face tempered his disappointment somewhat, though. “Sure. I’m sure one of the cars will be around.”

It was a very long walk back to the front entrance, with neither of them moving very fast. Rather than give her friend the museum’s address to pick her up, Corrin hopped in the sedan with Yukimura, still wrapped up in his jacket as she leaned into him and they pulled away from the curb. “I realize my boss not being here made the whole thing moot, but I wanted to thank you for doing this,” he said. “I had a very nice time with you tonight, Corrin.”

“Likewise. Can I ask you something, though?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just that…you don’t really seem like the kind of guy who would _need_ a fake date,” Corrin said, shifting to face him so that one knee was resting on top of his thigh. “I’m kind of surprised you’re not spoken for already.”

And here was the subject he was hoping she wouldn’t broach. Yukimura loosened his bowtie and let the two halves rest on his shirt. “Well, you’re kind to say so. I really haven’t dated in the last few years, not since my marriage ended. At some point I guess I stopped thinking about it much.”

“How many years is a few?”

“Let’s see…eighteen or so?”

Corrin started beside him, and he couldn’t blame her. Having it laid out like that was a bit of a shock to him as well. “That must have been one hell of a divorce,” she said.

“It was a widowing, actually.”

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

She fell silent and fiddled with her hands in her lap until Yukimura cautiously reached over and gave them a soft pat. “It’s all right, you had no way of knowing. And it was a long time ago.”

Yukimura was glad that she didn’t take her moment of embarrassment to shift away from him, instead staying nestled into his side, but he knew that it was up to him to restart the conversation. “Well, ah, was there any part of the exhibit that you especially enjoyed? Or maybe something you could use for your classes? I’m sure I could send along copies of the more exhaustive reports that came with everything.”

Fortunately, she had a great deal to say on that score, describing the Shang dynasty pottery that had been adorned with auspicious oracle bone readings, and Yukimura couldn’t bear to interrupt her when the car pulled up outside his building. He was never out on the museum floor with guests, everyone he interacted with treated the artifacts as a matter-of-fact thing, so her obvious enthusiasm was a welcome change from being acclimated to it all.

“And I wonder how they picked—hey, were you going to tell me that we were here?” Corrin asked, playfully nudging his arm.

“I wanted to let you finish your thought.”

Yukimura climbed out to hold the door for her, leaving them standing on the sidewalk while a cold gust blew down the street. He shifted to his left a bit to try and spare Corrin the worst of it. At some point he thought she was going to return his jacket, but she kept it tightly bundled around herself as she looked up at him. “Well…thank you again for a lovely evening,” Yukimura said. “You’re welcome to have the car take you home, or I can wait with you in the lobby for your friend if you’d prefer?”

“You’re not going to invite me upstairs?”

They were nowhere near an earthquake region, leaving the lurch seizing him as a product of his own nerves. His face burned, and he took half a step back when she started to close the distance between them. “Corrin, I appreciate your commitment to the act, but it’s over. The clock’s struck midnight, the carriage is turning back into a pumpkin. And I wouldn’t make you uncomfortable with a lurid joke like that.”

“I’m not that good an actor,” Corrin said, and hooked one finger into his collar to pull his lips down to hers. The kiss was a more pleasant surge of nerves, electrifying his entire body well after the initial shock passed. Yukimura draped one arm across her shoulders and wrapped the other around her waist, drawn in by her hands on his hips. She kept them rooted there when she eased her head back, grinning at how red his face must have been. “I like you.”

“I…”

His mind was racing well ahead of the rest of him, making it impossible to think this through. But what was there to think about, really? There was a smart, gorgeous woman, so far out of his league that it was comical, all but propositioning him. Yukimura took his hand from her shoulder and tucked some hair behind her ear. Corrin pushed her cheek into his palm, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Her skin felt even smoother than the material of her dress. “I like you, too. So…would you like to come upstairs?”

The grin she flashed him showed the barest hint of teeth. “I’d love to.”

With the car sent off, Corrin clung to Yukimura’s arm once again as he led her inside his building, doing his best to ignore the scandalized look from one of his neighbors in the lobby and making a beeline for the elevator. By some mercy it arrived quickly, and they were granted a brief moment of privacy as it started to ascend. Corrin nestled against his chest, still wearing the borrowed jacket, and Yukimura softly stroked her hair. “Just out of curiosity, when did this stop being a fake date for you?” he asked.

“It never was fake for me.”

Corrin followed close behind as he led the way to his apartment at the end of the hall, then slipped in after him and wrapped him in an embrace from behind. She loosened her grasp enough to let him turn around in her arms, then tightened up again as she pressed into him and made a contented sound when he returned her hug. Yukimura racked his brains to try and dredge up anything left in his memories about romance. There was no chance he was going to let his own insecurities get in the way of this bolt of good luck. “Can I offer you a drink?”

She looked up and drummed her fingers along his back. “Is there any food on the menu? I actually haven’t had anything since breakfast,” Corrin said, and dislodged herself to dip down and take off her heels.

“Oh, of course. I haven’t had much today either, actually.” Yukimura stepped around the kitchen counter to open a drawer. “I have some takeout menus here if you don’t mind delivery, or I could make something.”

Corrin paced languorously into his apartment, drifting toward the living room before settling on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. “Do you have eggs? I know it might sound strange, but I like to make a plate of scrambled eggs when I’m up late studying.”

It wasn’t exactly his idea of a nightcap, but there was very little in the world that would have made him balk right then. Yukimura dug three eggs out of his refrigerator and prepped a pan for the stovetop, built into the kitchen counter where Corrin could watch him, head resting on steepled fingers. “Did you really think me holding onto you all night was part of the act?” she asked with a small smile. “Even when we were alone?”

“I thought it would be very easy to presume too much.”

“Such a gentleman.” Corrin came around the counter to his side, laying his jacket on the counter. Without her heels, she only came up to about his chin. She rested one hand on his back. “I remember when I was really young, my babysitter would eggs for me at night, even though he thought it was strange.”

“Really? That’s funny, I used to babysit a girl when I was in college who ate the same—”

Yukimura twitched and almost sent the frying pan skidding across the stovetop. A chill coursed through his body, in no way helped by the knowing smile Corrin was giving him. She reached past him to turn the stove off.

“—thing.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” Corrin said softly, and pulled him into another kiss.

His thoughts were a delirious haze, swirling far out of his control and not coming back any time soon. He wasn’t sure it would make any sense if he _did_ think about it, anyway. Yukimura leaned into it instead, wrapping his arms around Corrin as she backed him against the refrigerator. Her fingers worked frantically at his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one as he searched for the zipper on the back of her dress. “Higher,” she said when they broke apart to breathe, and he traced his fingers upward until he found the top of the dress beneath her hair. Yukimura tugged it down ever so slightly, careful not to tangle her hair in the teeth, when Corrin planted a hand between his legs and squeezed. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“I hope I’m not too out of practice with all of this…”

“Only one way to find out.”

Her hand cupped him more firmly, and the rest of breath caught in his throat. Corrin looked like she was ready to eat him alive, and he couldn’t imagine that he looked much different. Yukimura brushed her hand away and took it in his, lacing their fingers together as he led her through the rest of his apartment.

He wished he had made his bed that morning, but he couldn’t imagine that she minded very much one way or another. Corrin tossed her clutch onto his dresser and hooked her fingers into his pants, turned him around, and made to push him onto the bed. He stepped around her hand, though, and grabbed it instead, pulling her against him and claiming a kiss of his own. Her eyes went wide at the reversal, but closed with a whimper when her lips parted for his tongue.

Yukimura bunched up her hair in one hand and found the seam of her dress again, wasting no time in tugging it the rest of the way and letting the whole thing fall at their feet. His fingers raked over her bare back, dragging down from her bra to her panties and back again. The hooks yielded easily enough, and Corrin took her hands from his waist to let him slide it away and toss it aside. Rather than return her hands, she fussed with his belt instead, pulling until it came free of its loops and fell atop her dress. Yukimura eased back, relishing in the desperate look on Corrin’s face when she wasn’t able to stand high enough to kiss him again. “So much for being out of practice,” she said in between her panting.

“It’s all starting to come back to me. Are you all right with me taking the lead?”

“Oh, more than all right…”

He was committed to showing her the best night he could, wasn’t he? Yukimura finished undoing his trousers, one hand still holding Corrin’s hair in place as he stepped out of everything. He swept down on her all at once, kissing and biting at the delicate skin of her neck and shoulders. A whining moan broke out of her. The fleeting brush of his lips against her ear made Corrin shiver, enough for her to grab onto him again for support. “I remember you liking when I was in charge.” Another kiss, this one to the soft side of her throat. He chuckled under his breath. “I remember that you used to call me _Daddy_ since your father wasn’t around, too.”

“I can do it again, if you want,” Corrin said, teasing her hands along his chest and stomach. They settled at the base of his cock and stroked once, forcing his breath out in a sharp hiss as her words played against his ear. All he could hope was that he had some semblance of stamina left after all this time. “Would you like that…Daddy?”

Yukimura’s hand tightened in her hair and pulled her head back as he straightened up to look at her. His free hand settled on her cheek, stroking softly. This was wrong, this was so, so _wrong_ , and yet—god, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “That depends,” he said. There was little point in half-measures if they were doing this. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

Corrin had the tip of her tongue stuck between her teeth when she smiled and leaned into his hand. “Yes, Daddy.”

A burning lance of arousal shot straight through him and settled between his legs, threatening to scorch if it wasn’t answered. Yukimura gave her the merest nudge downward, and Corrin dropped obediently to her knees. “Show me.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Corrin eased forward and slid her tongue along the bottom of his shaft, keeping eye contact with him as she wrapped her lips around his cock and took the head into her mouth, lavishing him in blissful, wet warmth as she sank deeper. Yukimura ran his free hand through her hair as well, settling it over her ear and tracing the pad of his thumb along the ridge. Her response was a long, low moan as she sank her nails into his hips, leaving little red marks to flare on the skin underneath. Yukimura clicked his tongue and tugged lightly on her hair until she relented. All the while, she never looked away, instead keeping her wide eyes focused squarely on him.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked when Corrin took him deeper, leaving the tip of her nose brushing at the hair trailing down from his stomach. His voice was thin and drawn tight with the effort of staying still when all he wanted to do was push his hips forward.

A quick, muffled “Mmhmm!” was all she could get out, and the hum of her voice against him almost made his head roll back. It was too tempting, though, to keep enjoying the rapturous look on her face, especially once her eyes went glassy after he stroked her ear again. The moans accompanying her rhythm cut up through him like a lightning bolt, and with each one Yukimura could feel his breath grow quicker and his resistance grow weaker. The shocks of arousal from Corrin’s tongue were beginning to prove too much, and he was amazed he had lasted this long.

He would have to do something nice to repay her.

“Corrin,” Yukimura said, struggling to keep his voice steady against her attentions. She made an inquisitive sound, taking care to make her voice quaver so he would feel every minute change in pitch, then picked up her pace. The first crack in his composure began to spread, and it was no longer a matter of stamina. “Corrin, I’m about to—I’m—”

Her lips slid to the base of his cock as he started to come, gasping at the ecstatic break of pressure through his body. Corrin’s hands tightened on his hips again, moaning at the feeling of him falling apart, as her eyes went half-closed. She coaxed out everything she could with the quick slide of her tongue against him, drawing back and forth until it was almost overwhelming. Yukimura released his hold on her hair to reach back for his dresser and steady himself, and when Corrin finally slid back from his cock with one last kiss to the tip, he wasn’t sure if he had ever come so hard in his life. As it was, he couldn’t fathom how his legs hadn’t given out. Corrin rested her cheek against his thigh and smiled up at him, then opened her mouth while sticking out her tongue to show it was empty. “You came so _much_ , Daddy.”

This girl was going to be the death of him. Yukimura beckoned her up and softly kissed the crown of her head once she got to her feet. “Good girl,” he said, feeling her nuzzle into his chest between the open halves of his shirt and preen from the praise. “Good girl. You did so well, do you know that?”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said sweetly, and pressed a kiss to his chest. Yukimura worked his shirt off and wrapped his arms around Corrin. Her back and the swell of her rear were soft enough to make him twitch again, but he knew a second wind would need a bit more time. His thumbs skirted under the waistband of her panties and flipped it down, making her roll her hips back toward him.

“So what can I do for you?” Yukimura leaned down and let his voice slide across Corrin’s ear. “Good girls deserve rewards, after all.”

She moaned against his chest and looked up at him. “What do you recommend?”

His fingers drummed across the small of her back. He had his interests, but it wasn’t something he ever thought he would _lead_ with. Still, this night was already crazy enough that it just might land. “What do I recommend? Hmm. How interested would you be in a bit of…restraint? Something light.”

An instant of lucidity flashed in her eyes, a momentary break in her act, but it resumed quickly with a broadening smile. “I think I could try it,” Corrin said.

“Good.”

Yukimura reached across his dresser and opened the drawer containing most of his ties. “Go ahead and pick the one you think would look the best around your pretty little wrists.”

Corrin _oohed_ and took a step toward the drawer, keeping a hand on Yukimura’s chest as she perused her options. It was probably for the best that she had taken the edge off first, he thought. Diving right into it might have driven him mad. He put his hand over hers until she made her selection, a narrow sapphire-blue tie with silver at the edges. “I like this one best, Daddy.”

He took it from her and let the fabric drape over his fingers. “Good choice. Lay down on the bed and put your hands together over your head, please.”

Yukimura made a show of pulling the tie taut and winding it around one palm as Corrin backed her way toward the bed, leaning down when she came to the side and splaying out for him. With a moment to think as he walked around the bed and brought her outstretched hands together above her head, the question of his astronomical luck came bubbling up. That was something he could think about later, though. Yukimura slowly wound the tie around Corrin’s wrists, missing no chance to feel the softness of her skin or the way she twitched at his touch. It wasn’t any real restraint, he kept it loose enough that a sustained effort would unravel it, but the feeling was authentic enough. Corrin looked up at him with wide eyes and whined happily when he leaned down to kiss her. “Tell me if it gets to be too much for you,” Yukimura said. “Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

“That’s my good girl.”

He reoriented himself on the bed so that they were facing the same way, one hand racing over Corrin’s side now that she was laid out for him, obediently keeping her hands in their fastenings above her head. Yukimura kissed the soft space below her ear, down her throat, and into the crook of her neck while his hand dragged along the inside of her thigh, teasing and earning a whimper when it receded. His kisses trailed farther down, onto the swell of one breast before his lips and tongue brushed around the stiff point of her nipple. Corrin arched her back with a long, wavering moan, playfully shifting against her restraints.

The first brush of his hand between her legs was much less playful, a quavering shiver that wracked her body while Yukimura was lavishing attention on the firm tone of her stomach. A single, unbroken _“Ohh”_ trembled from her chest, and the arch in her back grew that much more pronounced. The rest of her body was no different in its reactions. Her legs shook, her arms jostled from side to side, and his hand was wet with her from only a fleeting touch. Yukimura drew further down until he was kissing at the tops of her thighs, dizzying himself on the mingled scents of her sweat and arousal. It was enough to make him drunk.

“This is what you want?” he asked, and tugged a flash of her skin lightly between his teeth.

“Uh-huh…”

“Tell me.” He planted a kiss on the strip of hair between her legs and moved back when Corrin tried to roll her hips up toward him. Yukimura wrapped his hand around her thigh and pulled it back down to the bed. “Tell me what it is that you want. Use your words.”

Corrin squirmed, obviously frustrated at being denied when she was so close, but she relented after a moment. “Please use your mouth, Daddy…”

His chest hitched as much as hers when he dove into her, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue and running a finger on either side of her sex. Whatever else Corrin tried to say dissolved into a raspy breath that rang sweetly in his ears. Knowing that he was doing this, that he was reducing her to incoherence, was a remarkably potent feeling. Despite the hand on her thigh, her legs draped over Yukimura’s shoulders to try and fix him in place, as if there were anywhere else he would rather be. His fingers pressed lightly at Corrin while his tongue kept up a taunting circuit around her clit, drawing close but never giving her what she wanted outside of the merest flits and flashes.

Corrin had slicked his fingers with arousal so thoroughly that he was able to slip one, and then a second, into her with hardly any effort. She squeezed down on him as soon as he did, burning hot and hell bent on not letting go. Yukimura looked up with half-lidded eyes to see Corrin’s head thrown back in rapture while unsteady breaths and whimpers made her chest heave. If she was already in such throes, he had to wonder what would happen if he curled his fingers forward _just_ so—

Her whole body drew tight around him, every muscle pressing to hold onto him. What had been whimpers broke into desperate sobs, and Yukimura had to wonder how much longer he could keep this up before he broke her. That wouldn’t do. She _had_ been good, after all. Yukimura stopped teasing and lashed his tongue across her clit, timing his swipes with the motions of his fingers.

She hit her limit faster than he thought she would. There was something…heady about watching Corrin fall apart in front of him, about seeing the arch in her back drop out and feel her muscles go slack before quivering, about feeling the warmth of her climax on his lips. Her legs tightened around his head as she shook, knocking his glasses askew and blurring the wonderful sight in front of him. Yukimura released her thigh to right them so he could watch her tremble and shudder through her orgasm, gently withdrawing his fingers and easing back enough that he wouldn’t overwhelm her with any errant movement. Once her hold on him had relaxed, Yukimura sat up and pulled Corrin into his lap, legs curled to her chest while her cheek rested against his collarbone. Her hands were still bound with his tie, resting on her knees while she shivered. She felt so warm and small against him, thoroughly bundled up in her comedown.

“How are you doing?” Yukimura asked softly, wrapping his arms around her. He realized too late that his first two fingers were still covered in her arousal, but before he could draw his hand away, Corrin descended on them and licked them clean before he could. When she was done, she looked up at him and stuck her tongue out with a smile. Yukimura grabbed on and held it there for a moment, pressed between his thumb and first finger, then let it go to undo the loose knot in his tie. “Well enough, I take it…”

“Yes, Daddy.” Corrin laid a hand on his chest and laid the other across his shoulders, then started a little and nudged her hips against his cock with a smirk. His concerns about getting a second wind, thankfully, were well enough allayed. Yukimura’s fingers squeezed at her shoulder at the feeling, and she bumped into him again. “We can’t leave this not taken care of, can we?”

“I just want to hold you for a few minutes.”

“Oh—”

Corrin twitched a little at the feeling of his grip tightening, then relaxed against him with a contented sigh. Yukimura brushed his thumb across her shoulder and relished the warmth coming off of her. “If we can forgo the act for a few moments…I’d forgotten how nice it feels to hug someone like this,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. Corrin looked up at him and rubbed the space between his shoulder blades. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re such a romantic.” She straightened up to kiss him, gently catching his lips with hers and letting her hand race up into his hair. For a moment they were no longer playing any roles, having cast them aside in favor of simply enjoying each other’s company. Corrin broke away from his lips to dot his cheek and chin with kisses, then added in the cutest voice she could muster, “Daddy.”

“I don’t know how you found that nerve, but I’m so very glad that you did.”

Corrin wriggled out of his grasp and retrieved her clutch from atop his dresser to slip a condom out. She tore the packet open and climbed back onto the bed, rolling it in her hand as she kissed him again and gently stroked him back to full hardness. Yukimura gave her a little pat on the head. “Smart girl.”

He let out a long breath at the slightly cold feeling of her rolling the condom down his shaft, then eased Corrin back onto the bed. She bit her lip when he tucked one hand under her rear and gripped at his shoulders. His heart felt ready to beat out of his chest with the look she was giving him. The head of his cock dragged along her sex, and Corrin dug her nails into his skin as he lined himself up. “Don’t be too rough, Daddy…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Yukimura said, and slowly pushed inside.

Corrin’s eyes closed just as her mouth opened in a wordless exhalation that ended when he was buried to the hilt in her. She released his shoulders and wrapped her arms around his chest instead, pulling Yukimura down so that he was right on top of her. “Still okay?” Yukimura asked, nipping lightly at her earlobe. Corrin’s whine was vaguely affirmative, and she nodded after a moment, running her hands across his back as she did. “Good.”

Yukimura quelled the mewl she made on his outstroke with another kiss, and soon she was moaning against his tongue once they found a rhythm that worked for them. Corrin’s hips moved in counter to his with each thrust, rising up to meet him before drawing down again when he rocked back. No, he wouldn’t have lasted if this had been his first time out…Yukimura broke away from Corrin’s lips suddenly and sank into the soft skin of her throat again, seized by a spike of possessive impulse. Her response was to rake her nails across his back, leaving hot, angry lines in her wake that only added to the burn at the base of his cock. The pressure of her legs fastening around his waist, too, wasn’t helping his staying power.

Without doing the unthinkable and slowing their pace, Yukimura slipped his hand from under Corrin’s rear and eased it between them, settling low enough that he could swirl the pad of his thumb around her clit. She cried out, gasping for air at the new stimulation and madly snapping her hips forward for more. There was no artfulness or elegance to their pace any longer, not when they were moving as fast as they were. In his mind, though, the freneticism more than made up for it. Corrin’s breaths were no more than little pants as she rocked her body up toward him, high and desperate and building to another break.

“Close?” Yukimura asked, whispering beside Corrin’s ear. She nodded frantically, still bucking her hips to get herself there. Eventually her rhythm started to bottom out and grow more ragged, and her sharp intake of breath was sign enough. Yukimura flicked his thumb faster and kissed her throat. “Go on then, come. Be a good girl and come for me.”

She obeyed. Corrin’s breath collapsed to an ecstatic cry, her whole body going taut again before exploding with release. It was well worth the claw marks on his back to feel her shake around him, her body twitching and trembling so much that it threw him over the edge as well. Yukimura’s last few strokes were little more than a furious rut before he pressed into her to the hilt, abandoning her neck in favor of catching her lips again in a deep, bruising kiss. She seemed to melt beneath him, and him along with her, until the distinction between them was impossible to find. Yukimura pulled one of Corrin’s hands from his back to thread their fingers together.

Too soon, and yet somehow after an interminable stretch, it was over. They came down slowly from their high, with Corrin resisting all of Yukimura’s attempts to roll to her side. “Don’t. I like your weight,” she said, her voice still a little shaky.

Yukimura nodded and reached up to kiss her forehead. “As you wish.”

When exhaustion finally won out over afterglow, Corrin did let him gently ease out of her and fall onto the bed at her side. As soon as he landed, she was curling up to him, throwing one arm over his waist and tangling their legs together. In the small bar of light they had from the hallway, Corrin was smiling, looking up at him with such affection that it was almost overwhelming. Yukimura brushed some hair from her face and softly kissed her. “We should probably get ourselves cleaned up,” he said.

Corrin wound herself tighter around him, making it impossible for either of them to move. “Probably.”

He wasn’t inclined to object to her idea, though. Yukimura put his arms around Corrin and squeezed, even without any space for her to actually get closer. She still nuzzled into his chest, where he could listen to the soft rhythm of her breathing lull him half to sleep. “So,” Corrin said, moving back just enough to make eye contact, “I guess as far as fake dates go, this one sort of fell apart at the end there, didn’t it?”

“Oh, there was a lot of room for improvement,” Yukimura said, earning a snicker from her. “I think we had it there for a while at the beginning, but by now the whole thing’s become a great big mess. A total disaster, really.”

“And…as a real date?” she asked.

Yukimura tapped his fingers against Corrin’s back and kissed the crown of her head. “Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. If you enjoyed this, you may also like my more canon-compliant Corrin/Yukimura fic, [The Demands Upon Royalty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18275267).


End file.
